


The Bounty Hunter's Husband

by Kutaisi



Series: Dark Fairy Tale AU [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Smut, Forced Marriage, Gaslighting, Happy Ending, Identity Issues, Jango Fett has Issues, M/M, Mandalorians (Star Wars), Manipulation, Planet Mandalore (Star Wars), Planet Melida | Daan (Star Wars), Planet Stewjon (Star Wars), but in a dark way, not until the last chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29001069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kutaisi/pseuds/Kutaisi
Summary: Obi-Wan never returned to the Jedi after Melida/Daan and instead turned to the planet of his birth for help, which he got. Years later he agrees to an arranged marriage but when he gets an offer from Jango Fett, the son of the current ruler of Mandalore, he has no choice but to refuse.Unfortunately, that just lands him in more trouble.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Dark Fairy Tale AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190321
Comments: 156
Kudos: 411





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags. This is dark. 
> 
> Obi-Wan is in his early 20s in this and there's the canonical age difference between him and Jango.
> 
> Millberry_5 and others on Discord helped with a lot of the brainstorming for this!
> 
> The idea for this came from what I now know is the fairy tale "King Thrushbeard," so you can blame Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, whichever editors chose to put it in a questionable children's anthology from the '80s and my parents.

“I just don’t understand why you aren’t more nervous,” Nield said as he tossed Obi-Wan a meiloorun from the bowl on the table and then went back to shuffling the small brightly coloured cards in his hand.

Obi-Wan caught the piece of fruit with the Force and shrugged. “We knew it would come to this eventually. There’s only so much Stewjon can do for our long-term security.” He looked out the window of their temporary government building which had a good view of central Zehava. Or that’s what it would be if so much of the city hadn’t been bombed out. Reconstruction continued to be slow going and an infusion of credits and supplies would be a lifeline.

Obi-Wan knew that he’d been lucky to have been welcomed on his planet of origin after Qui-Gon Jinn had refused to accept him back after his time fighting with the Young and Cerasi’s death. Even more fortunate was the Stewjoni queen and ruling council’s willingness to take Melida/Daan on as a protectorate, but he knew he needed to do more. He wasn’t a teenager anymore and he knew he had to step up, for the sake of both his planets.

“You know as well as I do that we don’t have all that much to offer. If marriage is what it takes for an alliance, so be it.” He pulled nervously at his velvet tunic. He’d never got used to fine clothes and he always reverted back to simpler things whenever he could.

“I know, but…” Nield let his objections trail off before looking up at his friend with a mostly convincing smile. “Anyway, who knows? Maybe we’ll get a good offer from someone who’s just interested in our hyperlane access.”

Obi-Wan didn’t bother to point out how unlikely that was. “We should probably get over to the spaceport. The Stewjoni representatives will be arriving at the meeting place any time now.” They were conducting all official business on a neutral moon in a neighbouring system.

Obi-Wan let himself slouch in his chair the moment the last of the Breekan negotiators left the conference room.

“Hey, that didn’t go too bad,” Nield said as he sat down next to him and handed him a cup of water. “The agricultural treaty they’re interested in could be really beneficial someday.”

“‘Someday’ being the key word.”

“Still, it’s something, and there will be other offers, don’t worry.”

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat. “In fact, we have another one right now.” Deputy Foreign Minister lbana stood at the door with a sour expression on his face. He was indisputably Obi-Wan’s least favourite Stewjoni official. “We have a delegation here and from what I heard of their offer, they’re willing to negotiate very favourable terms.”

“We didn’t agree to meet with anyone else today,” Nield said with a snarl. “You can’t just spring stuff on Obi-Wan like that!” The young Daan was proving himself to increasingly adept at navigating politics, but he’d gone from living on the streets to fighting on them as a young teen and it still showed sometimes.

“Nield, it’s okay. It’s worth at least talking to whoever it is.” Privately, he shared Nield’s feelings, but it was never a good idea to insult unknown dignitaries and they could hardly afford to ignore a potential opportunity. “It’s just a meeting.”

“Fine,” he said but not before muttering, “You never listen to me anyway,” under his breath.

Obi-Wan forced himself to sit up straight and hoped he still looked presentable. “What system are they from?”

“Mandalore,” the man said with no small amount of distaste. “I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that they’re disorganised and unprofessional.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. Obi-Wan felt frozen in place. “You- you’re sure?”

Ibana frowned. “Of course I’m sure.”

“Then it’s their leader coming here? The Mand’alor?” If that was the case, it might be all right to sit down and talk with them. Maybe they’d even be able to negotiate some kind of trade-based treaty. Jaster Mereel was known as an even-tempered reformer who’d brought his people back from the brink. If they could count on any Mandalorian to deal reasonably with them despite Obi-Wan's background, it would be him.

The Stewjoni man gave him an odd look. “No, it’s a small delegation led by his son, Jango Fett.”

Any hope Obi-Wan had been holding onto withered instantly. If a person knew the name ‘Jango Fett’ and exactly one thing about the man, it would be his exploits during the battle of Galidraan where he’d killed six Jedi barehanded. The whole thing had been an utter disaster for both the Mandalorians and the Republic, and it had been overseen by Obi-Wan’s former grandmaster of all people.

Now Jango Fett was coming to meet with a member of one of Stewjon’s ruling families when he was really about to come face to face with his greatest enemy.

If what the Mandalorians wanted was a trade treaty or the like, maybe it could be done quickly and efficiently before Fett figured out something was amiss, but somehow Obi-Wan knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

Before he could think any further on it, the doors opened and three armoured figures walked in. Obi-Wan had only seen one old grainy holo of the Mand’alor’s son and in it, like in the moment, he was wearing a helmet. Yet it was clear which one he was by the way he carried himself and the deferential manner the two displayed. Obi-Wan tried to ignore the ringing in his ears and the confused and concerned looks Nield was shooting him. He somehow forced himself to stand up and walk to the centre of the room.

“Jango Fett, welcome,” Ibana began. “May I present Obi-Wan Kenobi, the nephew of the Queen of Stewjon and provisional Governor of Melida/Daan.”

Obi-Wan nodded stiffly.

“Obi-Wan, Jango Fett is the son of the Mand’alor and is the current, uh,” the man looked down at the datapad his secretary handed him. “The current Al’ora-ara… um.”

“Al'Ori'Ramikade,” Fett supplied smoothly, before turning his gaze to Obi-Wan, though he still hadn’t removed his helmet. “Commander of the Supercommandos.”

“That’s a little repetitive for a title, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan asked before he could stop himself. He could feel Nield, Ibana and Ibana’s secretary’s dismay in the Force, but it was much harder to get a read on the three Mandos.

Before Obi-Wan could think of something to say as damage control, Fett leaned his helmeted head back and laughed. The sound, slightly eerie through the voice modulator, echoed around the room. “I guess it is when you say it in Basic,” the Mandalorian admitted once he recovered.

“Er, well, maybe we should all sit down and discuss this,” Ibana began, before getting cut off.

“That’s not necessary,” said the dark-haired human standing to the left of their commander with their helmet under one arm.

Fett nodded in confirmation. “We sent you all the details already. You can’t argue that the terms aren’t generous.”

Ibana looked up hastily. “They certainly are, sir, but we’ll need some time to go over them.”

“Terms for what?” Somehow Obi-Wan managed to keep his tone firm.

Once again he had the full attention of Jango Fett, Jedi Killer. “Terms for a marriage-based alliance. Didn’t you read the contract and materials we sent?”

Obi-Wan turned to glare at Ibana. “No, I haven’t.” 

Fett seemed unfazed. “You can have some time to go over it now and then we can start making arrangements.”

“I don’t think so.”

The Mandalorian took a step forward. “What does that mean?” Though, strangely, he sounded more curious than threatening.

“It means that while I appreciate your willingness to come and negotiate with us, I will have to decline any offer of marriage.”

For a moment, no one spoke.

“Kenobi!” Ibana finally hissed, only to be ignored.

Obi-Wan didn't need to see Fett's eyes to know the man was staring at him. “We were led to believe you and your people were open to the idea.”

“That may be the case, but this is one offer I am choosing to refuse.” As Obi-Wan spoke he heard Nield’s sharp intake of breath and a strangled gasp from Ibana. Now he could feel Fett in the Force for the first time, radiating anger. Something that only served to validate his refusal. If he married Jango Fett, it would only be a matter of time before the man learned the truth and killed him, leaving Melida/Daan and Stewjon in a perilous situation. He couldn’t have that. That couldn’t be his legacy.

“There’s nothing I can do to get you to reconsider?”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to answer in the affirmative and then promptly shut it. What if Fett didn’t take no for an answer? What if he kept at it? There could there be conflict, even war. “There’s one thing.”

“Yes?” Fett’s voice was tight and unamused.

“Beat me at a game.”

“A game? You mean combat?” The Mandalorian asked doubtfully as he looked Obi-Wan’s slight frame up and down.

“No, just what I said. A game.” Obi-Wan turned to a terrified-looking Nield. “Give me those cards you were playing with on the way here.”

“Obi…”

“I know you have them. Give them to me.”

Nield reluctantly complied, handing over the worn deck while mouthing something that seemed to be mostly profanity.

Jango Fett stared at the cards in Obi-Wan’s hands. “That’s a game for children.”

“You know it then? It’s a memory game. If you can win at this right here, right now, I’ll marry you.” Obi-Wan began spreading them out on the closest table.

One of the other two Mandalorians, a Twi’lek, stepped forward and spoke for the first time. “How do we know this isn’t some sort of trick?”

“It’s not a trick. I’ll marry him if he wins. In fact, I’ll marry anyone who can beat me at this game. But if you lose, you need to respect my choice and leave it at that.”

“Obi-Wan, cease this nonsense immediately!” Ibana shouted, but when he lunged forward to grab the younger man by the arm, Fett raised a hand.

“No, I’ll do it.”

“He cheated!” Jango slammed his helmet down on the table in front of him. “That arrogant Stewjoni piece of shit cheated.”

Silas just sighed and went back to preparing _shig_. It was more or less all Jango had been saying since they’d returned to the ship. Arij was lucky she was piloting. “I just don’t see how he could’ve, Alor. He wasn’t close enough to the table when it was your turn to choose cards.”

“I know I’m not wrong.”

“Even if that’s true,” Silas said as he handed Jango a steaming mug, “What can you do about it now?”

Nothing, Jango had been about to say when a thought came to him. Maybe there was something he could do. “I might have an idea.”

Silas made a noncommittal sound.

“Why do you always make a face like that when I say I have a plan?” Jango asked.

“You want an honest answer, _vod_?”

“No. Now sit down.”

The other man obeyed, setting his own mug down on the table. “Alright, but I’m not sure why you care so much. I got the impression you weren’t overly keen on the whole thing to begin with and just wanted to make Jaster happy.”

That wasn’t exactly wrong. Jango had agreed to the plan readily enough, but he’d hardly been enthusiastic. “You heard him! Saw how he reacted.” He fumed down at his drink. “Like he couldn’t think of anything worse.”

Silas inclined his head slightly. “I just don’t think it’s surprising he turned you down, given the sort of things outsiders say about Mando’ade.” Not all of which were untrue, he didn’t add.

“It went deeper than that and you know it.” Jango was sure he’d read terror in the young man’s response to him, and something else he couldn’t quite identify but was probably disgust or contempt.

“What do you have in mind?”

Nield made a face as he sat down opposite Obi-Wan and handed him a cup of caf. “I wish that one would’ve worked out. I liked her.”

“You liked that she follows swoop racing.” Obi-Wan accepted the caf with an eyeroll. “Why don’t you marry her then?”

“If they didn’t agree to our offer when it included marriage to Stewjoni royalty, I doubt the nobody son of dead factory workers would have turned the tide,” he said, though there was more amusement than bitterness in his tone. “Besides, I don’t want to get married, at least not yet. She just seemed fun.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t deny that. The young cousin of the ruler of the Maill system had been far more tolerable than the majority of his suitors so far. Not that there had been many, only a handful since the disastrous meeting with Jango Fett a month and a half before. Although he’d been worried at first because of the fury in the man’s eyes as he stormed out, nothing had come of it. Mandalore had made no further overtures to Melida/Daan or Stewjon, which was for the best no matter what the officials in his aunt’s government might say.

“Oh, there you are. I was worried you might have already departed for Zehava,” the cheerful voice of Rima Nelur, a member of the Stewjoni ruling council called out as she walked into the room.

“Hello Rima. Not yet,” Obi-Wan said, “but I did think we were done.”

“So did I, but apparently someone just showed up. I’m not sure who it is, but they’re being vetted by security now.”

Before Obi-Wan could ask any questions, the door burst open to reveal a flustered Deputy Minister Ibana. “There you are!”

“I’m not sure where else we would be,” Obi-Wan said mildly, giving Nield a pointed looked when it looked like he was about to open his mouth. “What’s going on?”

“We have a situation on our hands. There’s a Mandalorian here demanding to see you.” The man noticed Obi-Wan tense and quickly added, “Not the one from before. A different one.”

“What? Why?” Nield asked, sounding shocked, but Obi-Wan already had a sinking suspicion.

Sure enough, Ibana turned to glare at him. “If you hadn’t run your mouth about how you’d marry anyone who beat you at the stupid game, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Of course. Fett had been accompanied by two other Mandos. Word would have spread about what had happened. He forced himself to calm down. There was no reason he couldn’t do the same thing again.

“But who is this person?” Rima asked.

“He won’t say. Just that he’s a bounty hunter,” Ibana said with distaste.

Rima looked at the door nervously. “What do we do now?”

Ibana threw up his hands in frustration. “Well, we don’t really have much of a choice but to hear what he has to say, do we?” Even as the man spoke, there was banging on the door. “Let him in!”

The Stewjoni guards must have acquiesced because the door opened and a Mandalorian in full armour and helmet strode in. Obi-Wan felt an initial spike of fear, but it was immediately clear that while this man was similarly built to Fett, it was not the same person. Most notably, the armour with its chipped blue paint was different. It probably wasn’t _beskar_ , Obi-Wan decided. The man’s weapons too, while plentiful, did not appear to be top of the line.

“I’ve come to challenge for this one’s hand in marriage,” the man announced with an inflection that was more Keldabe than Fett’s distinct Concord Dawn accent.

Ibana frowned. “I’m sorry, but that’s not an option.”

“Are you denying that he made that offer?”

Obi-Wan stood up. “No one’s denying it, but you’re not here representing a government, are you? What would you get out of such a thing?” Why in the galaxy would a Mandalorian fighter, even a working class one, want to marry some stranger? Surely he’d have more appealing options for a partner.

“I was told you have a dowry from the ruler of the planet Stewjon. Is that not true?”

Obi-Wan winced. It was true. All members of the royal family were entitled to something according to their rank. Obi-Wan’s was 20,000, though the queen had indicated willingness to increase it greatly, if necessary, for the right match. He somehow doubted a random Mando would qualify for that, however. “It’s true, but—”

“Then I’ll take you up on your challenge.”

Obi-Wan inhaled, doing his best to block out the fear and concern he could feel in the Force from the others in the room. “We don’t even have cards with us today.”

The man stepped closer. “I do,” he said, pulling out a small deck.

“Okay.” Obi-Wan tried to focus on planning how he would proceed. He stretched out his hand to the take cards, but the Mando shook his head.

“You’ve been accused of cheating.”

“That’s a lie!” Ibana and Rima exclaimed at the same time while Nield looked on in horror. Obi-Wan could only nod numbly. It made sense that Fett would have thought that and then said it, probably loudly and frequently, after what must have been a humiliating incident. Though Obi-Wan certainly wouldn’t admit it out loud, it wasn’t even incorrect.

“We can use your cards,” Obi-Wan said. “That’s not a problem.”

“I have other conditions as well.”

Rima’s face was bright red. “Like what?”

“He,” the anonymous Mandalorian said, pointing at Obi-Wan, “needs to stand at the other side of this room, facing the wall, when it’s my turn to choose cards.” He walked over a table. “And we’ll do best two out of three rounds, like you did before.”

“I suppose we can agree to that, though I can assure you that no cheating took place before or will take place now,” she said with a worried glance at Obi-Wan, as his heart sank. His chances of being able to intervene were fading quickly, but he saw no other option but to go along with it. He tried to tune out the nervousness of his compatriots and release his own feelings into the Force, but it wasn’t easy.

Despite not being able to manipulate the cards, Obi-Wan won the first round and began to feel a sliver of hope, but the Mandalorian won the next. And the next.

Silence fell over the room.

The Mando straightened up and carefully picked up and put away the cards, before turning to Rima and Ibana. “Now I want what’s rightfully mine.”

Nield jumped up from his seat. “Wait a minute, this is happening too fast.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Ibana agreed.

The Mandalorian, his expression hidden behind his visor, simply shook his head. “I fulfilled my part of the contract.”

Nield looked desperately from the bounty hunter to his friend. “If it’s Obi-Wan’s dowry you want, what if we just give you that amount?”

“Oh, and you just happen to have 20,000 credits laying around?” Ibana asked waspishly.

“That dowry is Obi-Wan’s money,” Nield said. “He should be able to do with it what he wants!”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “It’s dependant on marriage and goes to my spouse.”

“Maybe if we commed the queen and explained the situation,” Rima tried.

It was all Obi-Wan could do to repress a groan. He’d agreed to the possibility of an arranged marriage to help repay Stewjon for their generosity, not to end up being even more of a burden.

“No.” All eyes turned to the bounty hunter. “I’m an honourable man. I won’t take what I’m not entitled to. Besides, that wasn’t the deal.”

For the first time, Obi-Wan turned to take a good look at the man he was quickly realising would in fact be his husband. “So, what now? We go through with this right away? I haven’t even seen your face.”

“And you won’t until after we’re married.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. He’d heard that some Mandalorians followed strict rules with regards to showing their faces. “I don’t suppose you’ll give me some time before we do this?”

“No offence, but I’d rather not give you time to let your lawyers and bureaucrats cheat me out of what I won fairly,” he said in a tone was more matter of fact than harsh.

“Understood.”

“Obi, no,” Nield said, looking stricken. Obi-Wan ignored him.

“Councilor Nelur, Deputy Minister Ibana, I trust you both to relay my wish to my aunt and the rest of the Stewjoni government that Nield replace me as the governor of Melida/Daan.”

The next hour was a blur. The bounty hunter insisted that for a Mandalorian marriage, the only necessity was reciting the vows in Mando’a. There was slightly more paperwork involved for it to be legal on Stewjon and for the money to be transferred to Obi-Wan’s new spouse.

Then it was over, and he found himself being led toward the moon’s spaceport, the small bag he’d brought with him his only possessions. “Are you going to tell me your name at least?” Obi-Wan asked as they got to a field outside the port that was filled with ships owned by people who didn’t want or couldn’t afford to pay hangar fees. He had tried to see what the man put down on the forms, but he’d written in Mando’a script.

The man stopped and released his grip on Obi-Wan’s arm. “You can call me Jay.”

“You don’t have a clan name?” Obi-Wan asked, suddenly curious. He’d thought all Mandalorians did.

“Not one I use.” Jay’s tone suggested the topic was off limits. He took a few steps forward and pointed. “There’s the ship.”

Obi-Wan blinked. He hadn’t been expecting anything fancy, but the thing in front of them was both small and in serious disrepair. He was starting to see why 20,000 credits had been enough of a motivation.

He hesitated as Jay pressed the door controls. It had been one thing to convince himself not to fight to get out of the mess he’d got himself into, it was entirely different to be faced with a future that somehow felt both nebulous and inevitable.

His new husband seemed to sense his uncertainly and though his face was hidden, his voice at least was softer. “I know you didn’t understand the words we spoke, but I meant them. You’re my responsibility now and I mean to take it seriously.” Then without another word he turned and climbed the ramp up to his ship.

Obi-Wan waited just a moment before following.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mand'alor - sole ruler of the Mandalorian people  
> Mando'ade - Mandalorians  
> shig - a beverage that's an infusion of whatever's available, but usually a mildly stimulant herb with a citrus flavour called behot  
> vod - sibling


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gaslighting tag is there for a reason :O

As he looked around, Obi-Wan tried not to let his feelings show on his face when it became clear that the inside of the ship was in as bad of shape as the exterior. Though even a quick glance told him that the person behind all the improvised repairs was skilled and knew what they were doing. The small hold was also clean and organised, so that was something.

“You can put that down, if you want.”

The unmodulated voice caught him off guard and he whipped around to see the face of the man he’d married. The distractingly handsome face of the man he’d married, he couldn’t help but note as he slowly put down the bag he’d been clinging to. He met his husband’s eyes for the first time, suddenly embarrassed by how he’d been trailing the bounty hunter like a timid felinx. He wasn’t a lost child. Anymore. His life may have gone in an unexpected and unwelcome direction, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t handle it like an adult. After all, if Stewjon hadn’t agreed to help him in the aftermath of the war on Melida/Daan, he’d probably be in a much worse situation than his current one. At least he was free. At least the two of them had a chance to make some kind of life. He deeply regretted having to abandon his people, but there was nothing he could do but forge ahead. “Is there anything I should do to help before we take off?” Obi-Wan asked.

If there was the slightest of hint surprise in the Mando’s eyes, it disappeared quickly. “That’s not necessary, but I should probably show you around first.”

There wasn’t much to show. There was the cargo storage area, the cockpit and a tiny refresher but no kitchen to speak of other than a few appliances on some stacked-up crates shoved into a corner. There was also a bed compartment just big enough for two, though to Obi-Wan’s relief, Jay led him past it without comment and instead pulled out a fold out bunk from the wall in the main hold. “I’ll find you a blanket once we’re in hyperspace,” Jay said before unceremoniously turning and leaving Obi-Wan to stand awkwardly in the hull during the pre-flight checks.

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to follow the man up the narrow ladder into the cockpit when it came time to take off and instead strapped himself into the closest seat to where he was and only once they’d left atmosphere and entered a hyperlane, did he unbuckle and stretch. He waited a few minutes for the Mandalorian to come back and was just about to give up when he appeared at the top of the ladder and began lowering himself down. 

He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not that Jay hadn’t put his helmet back on. His eyes weren’t cold exactly, but having the man’s gaze on him was far from comfortable. “Take a seat. We should talk.”

After a moment, Obi-Wan obeyed and soon they were sitting on two crates facing each other. “May I ask where we’re going?”

“The nearest space station. We need fuel and supplies and the ship needs some repairs.”

The last part was such an understatement that Obi-Wan had to force himself not to comment. “That makes sense.”

“From there, it’ll be a quick trip to a planet where I have a job waiting.”

“A bounty job?”

“That’s right.”

“Is it Guild work?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No.”

That was hardly a shock. Joining the Bounty Hunter’s Guild, even an Outer Rim chapter, required more than just skill. It almost always took money or connections and preferably both, things that Jay was undoubtable short on. Why else would he have gone to so much effort to snag Obi-Wan’s middling dowry? This Mandalorian, like numerous other hunters in the galaxy, sought employment from those who didn’t wish to pay Guild fees and maybe one of the smaller cartels here and there. “Right. Okay.”

Jay kept his eyes on him and frowned slightly. “You’ll need to work too.”

It was all Obi-Wan could do to not bristle at that. Jay would of course have a skewed view of his background and capabilities and trying to argue at this point would probably just make him seem petulant. There was nothing he could do about that except do his part and prove the man wrong. “I understand.”

The space station they stopped at was the edge of the Mandalore sector and the abundance of Mandalorian ships was to be expected, Obi-Wan told himself as they disembarked but one ship in particular caught his eye and he couldn’t shake the feeling it gave him. He’d only seen the transponder records from their meeting so he couldn’t be sure, but it still bothered him. “That ship…?” He asked, pointing to the heavily armed Kom’rk class transport as they walked out of the hangar.

“I believe that one belongs to Jango Fett.” Jay turned to look at him as he spoke, though his expression was hidden behind his visor. “If you’d agreed to marry him, it would be yours too,” he added, though Obi-Wan couldn’t detect any cruelty in his tone.

 _That’s right. It would have been. Until he shoved me out an airlock the moment he learnt the truth,_ Obi-Wan thought bitterly. Unless Fett was more the type to prefer a public execution. He couldn’t decide which option was worse.

Though seeing Fett’s ship was concerning, Jay assured him that it was probably simply being stored there for a few days and sure enough they saw no trace of him or his companions as they went about their business and everything went smoothly otherwise. The cost of repairs was as staggering as Obi-Wan had expected, though Jay proved to be a shrewd negotiator and refused to be over charged. After finalising the deal with the mechanic, they bought supplies from the station’s market. As he watched his husband haggle with a merchant over the price of instant caf, he considered asking if they could buy some tea as well, but he kept his mouth shut. He’d wait until he helped earn some money and felt less like a burden. It was bad enough that Jay insisted on buy Obi-Wan two sets of practical clothing.

It didn’t take long for them to go through the money they had. Obi-Wan didn’t know exactly what happened to the rest of the 20,000 credits after the repairs, fuel and supplies were paid. He hoped that whatever remained was set aside as savings, but Jay slipped away for short periods every day so Obi-Wan suspected it went to pay off debts. To his extreme relief, Jay gave no indication of using spice or any other drug and drank only in moderation.

They stayed three nights on the station, in a hotel room that Jay specifically requested have two single beds and though it was still occasionally awkward to spend so much time around someone he knew so little about, it gradually became more comfortable.

The newly finished repairs made the trip to where Jay’s target was much more bearable than the previous one. The world they landed on had a couple spaceports and the one they docked in was mid-sized. He’d expected Jay to want to get going right away, but instead, the man turned his attention to three large crates he’d brought aboard before they’d left the station. “We’ll have to hire a speeder to get these into town,” he said, turning to Obi-Wan.

“You’re selling something?” Obi-Wan asked. He’d been curious about the contents of the crates but hadn’t been sure if he should ask.

“No, but you are.”

“I don’t understand.”

Jay lifted the top of the closest one and pulled out a piece of fruit with light blue skin. “These don’t grow here. You should be able to get a good price in the market.”

“What? No, I should help you with your hunt.”

The bounty hunter put the fruit he was holding back and replaced the lid. “I didn’t marry you just for you to die doing something foolish.”

 _No, you married me for money,_ Obi-Wan thought but didn’t say. Though that certainly did appear to be the case. It had been nearly a week already, and Jay hadn’t so much as hinted at wanting to touch him. He knew should be grateful for that, but he couldn’t the feelings of inadequacy that crept into his mind. “I can handle myself. I might not know anything about bounty hunting, but I have… some experience with fighting.”

If Jay was surprised by that, he didn’t let it show. “Even if that’s the case, this is a one person job. It makes more sense for you to take advantage of the time I’m gone to make some extra money.”

That was logical, Obi-Wan had to admit, so he made no more objections and when Jay left and returned with a hired speeder, they loaded it with the boxes of fruit.

After the Mandalorian left on foot to track down his target, Obi-Wan made his way to the town’s market where he found the person in charge, a surly Dug, and secured a stall to use for the day. Though it was still morning, the place was fairly crowded and the only decent spot available was at the corner of the marketplace. It wasn’t too bad, though, and he was able to arrange the fruit in a way so that they’d be visible to passers-by. He soon found that Jay had been correct, and that people were eager to buy the fruit. After an hour or so, he was more than pleased with how things were going.

He’d been wrong to be so dismissive of Jay’s plan. Maybe things would work out okay after all.

The first thing Jango noticed when he got back to where he’d landed the ship was that the hatch was open. The second thing he noticed was the young Stewjoni he’d married sitting on the ramp, his knees pulled up against his chest.

“Obi-Wan? What’s wrong?” He asked as he got closer. The man’s head snapped up in surprise.

“Jay, oh sorry. Um, I didn’t see you coming.”

Well, of course he hadn’t. His face had been covered. “That’s okay, but what happened? I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

Jango got closer and climbed up the ramp just far enough so he could kneel down in front of Obi-Wan. “It’s all right. You can tell me.”

Slowly the younger man raised his head. “Everything was okay at first. People wanted to buy them, like you said.”

“Yes, what then?”

Obi-Wan’s mouth thinned into a grim line and he squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment before answering. When he finally spoke, he reminded Jango of a defendant speaking at a trial that wasn’t going well. “The speeder bike came out of nowhere, it seemed like. I didn’t even get a good look at the person on it. They were wearing a hooded cloak.”

Jango didn’t say anything and simply waited for Obi-Wan to continue.

“But they crashed into most of the fruit. Even the ones that weren’t destroyed ended up bruised.”

“I see.”

The greyish-blue eyes widened, and he quickly glanced away. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t sound like there was much you could’ve done, although maybe that wasn’t the best place to set up.”

Obi-Wan’s face flushed an even brighter shade of pink, but he didn’t argue.

“Well,” Jango continued, “you must have earned something anyway.”

“Uh, yes,” Obi-Wan said as he dug through his pocket and finally pulled out two small credit chits. “Here.”

Jango blinked in genuine surprise. “Fifteen credits, that’s all?”

“Like I said, there wasn’t really anything salvageable.” There was only the slightest defensive note in Obi-Wan’s tone, but it was there. “Then I still had to pay the market manager for the stall rental fee, despite everything.”

“Ah, right.” Jango slowly reached out with one hand and held it still until he got a small nod and then rested it gently on the young man’s shoulder. “It’s okay, things happen. I’m sure you’ll be more careful next time.” Obi-Wan shuddered under his touch and he took that as a cue to squeeze slightly.

Obi-Wan looked up, finally meeting his gaze, or trying to, seeing as Jango still wore his helmet. That was something that had taken some getting used to. ‘Jay,’ a devout follower of The Way, would never show his face to anyone but his spouse.

“Did your job go well?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice becoming slightly anxious as he spoke, as if just realising that the bounty hunter had apparently returned empty handed.

Jango stood up, though not without giving a light pat to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, it went just fine. I turned in the bounty to the client and they’ve already wired the money. It’s more than enough to keep us fed and the ship fuelled until we get where we’re headed.”

It was only after they made it inside and Jango had taken off his helmet that Obi-Wan spoke again. “Where are we going?”

“Home,” Jango said. “Mandalore.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jango walked over to the bunk where Obi-Wan lay sleeping. The young man hadn’t spoken much since they’d taken off. He had helped make dinner from ration packets and then cleaned up after without complaint, but he’d avoided eye contact all the while, Jango had noticed. He’d then collapsed on his bunk at some point after they’d made the jump to hyperspace. As he stood there, Jango allowed himself a moment to appreciate how attractive the man looked while asleep. Then he took a step nearer.

“Time to wake up.” But the only response was something mumbled and unintelligible. He thought about the comment Obi-Wan had made earlier that was still bothering him but that he hadn’t had time to investigate. He leaned closer. “We’re under attack,” he said, raising his voice but not shouting. This time, the effect was instantaneous. Obi-Wan jolted up, his eyes flying open. Then he looked around, confused. _Interesting._ Jango filed that away.

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said, flushing. “I guess I had a bad dream.”

“I’m just glad you were able to get some sleep.”

Obi-Wan shifted his position awkwardly. “Where are we? We aren’t on Mandalore yet, right?”

“That’s correct. We’ve just landed on a world in the Phindar system.”

“Is something wrong?” Obi-Wan asked as he stood up, keeping the blanket wrapped around himself. It made a rather endearing picture, Jango thought.

“No, everything’s fine, but I did get a bounty job. Two Theelin siblings wanted alive by their former employer.”

“You need to bring in two people?”

Jango smiled. “Yes, and it seems that while they’re still both on the same part of the planet, they’ve split up. I was hoping you’d be able to help track down one while I get the other.”

Obi-Wan stilled completely and for a moment he just looked at Jango, as if studying his expression. “You’re sure? Because before—”

“These targets are slicers, not fighters. Besides, you seemed to indicate you are aren’t entirely inexperienced in combat.”

“I’m not,” Obi-Wan confirmed quickly, before glancing away. “I’m not saying I’m an expert, but I do know my way around a blaster.”

“Right, then we can work out our plan now and then go pick up the tracking fobs from the client.”

He had to admit that Obi-Wan was surprisingly attentive while he listened to Jango explain their course of action and then when they did a quick weapons overview. The Stewjoni did frown slightly at the shoddiness of the old CDEF blaster pistol Jango gave him, but he was able to take it apart and put it back to working order when asked, though he struggled to do the same with the refurbished BlasTech DL-22 that was Jay’s main weapon.

Before they disembarked, Jango made sure to give him a set of heavy-duty binders as well as a shortrange commlink. He also found himself regretting that he hadn’t picked up some durasteel armour pieces for Obi-Wan. He hadn’t anticipated caring so much. “Don’t forget to put the cuffs on and search them for weapons as soon as you stun them,” Jango said. “Speaking of which, make sure your blaster’s on stun. We’ll only get half per target if we bring them in dead, so use that as a last resort.”

“I’ll bring them in alive.” There was something about the emphatic way Obi-Wan said it that made Jango even more confident in his plan.

“Good, then let’s go meet our client.”

As Obi-Wan made his way through the industrial outskirts of the city, he found himself wondering why he’d never considered bounty hunting as a potential career back when things had been rough after the Young had won the war. Perhaps he would have sooner or later had Stewjon not proved to be a viable solution.

No, it certainly wasn’t the life he’d imagined for himself at thirteen or even just a few weeks back, but he could see getting used to it. It would be even better if he could be open about his Force abilities. Maybe eventually, once he’d got to know Jay more.

The soft beeping from the fob he held pulled him out of his thoughts, and he quickly silenced it and dropped it into his pocket. He turned a corner and there, sure enough, was a tall Theelin with bronze skin smoking near the entrance of what looked to be a bar or nightclub.

Obi-Wan kept to the shadows as much as he could, which proved to be an effective strategy. “Hands up.” He said once he got in blaster range.

The Theelin startled and dropped their cigarra, then hastened to obey. “I’m not armed,” they said, voice shaking.

“Fine. I won’t stun you if you let me put you in binders and search you.”

The bounty nodded, but the moment he stepped closer, they bolted. Obi-Wan raised his blaster, pointed, pulled the trigger and… nothing. He looked at the sliding mechanism to change the setting for just a second before holstering the gun and pursuing on foot. It was futile. The Theelin had already ducked into the crowded club and when he followed, he couldn’t do anything but curse as he looked down at the throng of people on the dancefloor below. He wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, but he already knew he’d lost his chance for the night.

Jango had been minutes away from comming when he heard the hatch of the ship open. “Obi-Wan?” He called out. There was no answer, but soon the younger man appeared at the entrance of the main hold. He looked stricken. “What happened?”

“They got away. The bounty, I mean.” Obi-Wan moved closer to where Jango sat but didn’t meet his gaze. “The stun setting on the blaster didn’t work.”

Jango frowned. “But I tested it before you left.”

“I know.”

“And the kill setting?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes were glued to the floor. “I— uh, they disappeared into a crowd. I kept looking. That was hours ago.”

Jango didn’t reply. Instead, he motioned for Obi-Wan to come and sit on the crate opposite him, which after a slight hesitation, he did.

“I tried. I promise.” Finally, storm-coloured eyes locked with his. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll start again.”

“There’s no need.” Jango held up the datapad he’d been using. “The alert came in that they’d been captured. I was just about to comm you.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan looked and sounded miserable. “I’m so sorry.”

Jango shrugged. “It happens. I’ve been training at this since I was child. You’ll catch on.”

Obi-Wan was quiet for a long moment. “Did you get the other one?”

“I did. They’re locked in the storage room and we’ll bring them in tomorrow.” Jango leaned forward and let his hand rest on Obi-Wan’s knee. To his slight surprise, the man didn’t so much as flinch. “Don’t worry, 2,000 is still a decent amount.”

“Not nearly as good as 4,500,” Obi-Wan said with a sour expression on his face. The client had been quite clear that they’d only get the extra 500 credits if they brought in both targets.

“You can’t think that way. Losing out on bounties is part of the job.”

Though he still looked unhappy, Obi-Wan nodded.

Jango smiled encouragingly. “Why don’t you get to sleep?” He suggested. Then waited until Obi-Wan tucked himself into his bunk before checking on the prisoner and going to sleep himself.

After his disastrous hunt, Obi-Wan tried to be as unobtrusive as possible while also doing as much as he could around the ship. Though Jay had reacted much more calmly than he’d been expecting. Yes, he knew that even practised bounty hunters didn’t catch every target, but he also knew they needed the money if they were going to successfully set themselves up on Jay’s homestead. Still, his husband’s relaxed attitude had started to wear off on him by the time they got to Mandalore. It was his first time on the planet and though much of it did appear to be barren desert like what he’d remembered from his studies, the capital of Keldabe and its surroundings seemed to contain a decent amount of greenery.

They secured landing clearance, after what Obi-Wan had determined was a tense conversation between Jay and the controller. He was trying to learn Mando’a, but so far could only pick out a few words. Jay eventually sat the ship down at the edge of the city.

To Obi-Wan’s surprise, the bounty hunter insisted they stop at the closest cantina for lunch first before heading to the house. It was a little awkward, eating while Jay sat across from him, helmet on, but the staff member who served them, a middle-aged Togruta with a kindly smile, didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered.

Obi-Wan’s new feeling of optimism lasted until they landed next to the small farm. Jay hadn’t actually told him what condition to expect the buildings to be in, but the way the man tensed when he saw the shattered windows told him it was an unexpected surprise. The few small buildings were arranged around a small yard of packed dirt. As they got closer, Obi-Wan saw that not only were almost all the windows broken, but the main door was as well. More disturbing, however, were the words scrawled in black paint on the largest exterior wall. He couldn’t read the Mando’a script of course, but the way Jay stared at it seemed to imply that it served its intended purpose.

“Jay, what happened?”

The bounty hunter’s helmet jerked toward him, as if he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone. “I need to check the inside,” the man said in a grim tone. Obi-Wan didn’t miss that he kept his hand on his blaster or that he gestured for him to stay outside. After a few quiet moments passed, Obi-Wan called out.

“It’s all clear.” Jay’s voice sounded strained and Obi-Wan rushed inside. It was true that there was nothing particularly dangerous looking in the four connected rooms of the building, but none of them were in good shape. Broken furniture and was strewn about and the exposure to the elements had caused obvious damage.

Jay sat on a heavy wooden bench, one of the few items that looked relatively undamaged, his helmet abandoned on the floor and his face a sea of emotion. “Who did this?” Obi-Wan asked as he knelt down in front of his husband.

“I don’t know.”

Obi-Wan waited a beat. “But you know why.” It wasn’t a question.

“It’s not your concern.”

“It is, though. You married me, didn’t you?”

“I shouldn’t have,” Jay said, and it was all Obi-Wan could do to stop himself from protesting. He did in fact agree with that, but in that particular moment nothing could have compelled him to admit it.

“You did, though, and now we’re here together.” He stood up and sat next to Jay instead, very conscious of how their bodies touched. “You need to tell me.”

Slowly, Jay turned to face him. “We had a civil war here,” he said.

 _More than one_ , Obi-Wan thought but didn’t say. “Yes.”

“My clan, well, most of it, chose the wrong side.”

“I see.” He did see. Suddenly a lot of things about Jay made more sense. “So that’s what the writing and all of this is about?”

“Yes”

Obi-Wan hesitantly reached out and put his hand on the bounty hunter’s arm. “Are you going to tell me what the words say?”

Jay shook his head.

That was the answer he’d been expecting, so Obi-Wan didn’t push. “Those relatives of yours, you’re not them. You’re not responsible for choices your family members made.” How he wished that was a concept more people grasped.

“I’m still suffering because of those choices and now you are too.”

“It’s not the end of the galaxy. We can get through this.” He looked around. “The house seems fine structurally, but that’s not a problem for today. Let’s go back to the ship for the night, okay?”

To his relief, Jay didn’t object, and they were soon back on the ship. Obi-Wan never thought he’d be so happy to be on that piece of junk. Jay still looked slightly lost, so Obi-Wan pulled him over to the bunk that was thankfully still folded out before seeing to the task of heating up soup and fetching water for both of them. They ate in silence and when Obi-Wan came back from clearing the dishes, it was to Jay fumbling with one of his pauldrons. “I can help with that if you want,” he heard himself say before he could think it through.

Jay stopped. “That— Uh, you don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind, though I’ll admit right now that I might not be any good at it.”

For the first time since their visit to the house, Jay smiled. “It’s all right, I’ll show you how.”

He did. It certainly took longer than it normally did for Jay to remove all his armour, but Obi-Wan didn’t mind. Especially considering the calming effect it seemed to have on the man.

After the armour was all put away, Obi-Wan motioned toward the door to Jay’s bedroom. “I guess we should both get some sleep. I imagine tomorrow will be a long day.”

Jay stood up and Obi-Wan grabbed his blanket and began to spread it out, but he was stopped by a firm grip to one arm. “You should come with me,” Jay said, glancing toward the bedroom. “Just to sleep,” he clarified when Obi-Wan reddened and looked away.

“I guess that would be fine,” Obi-Wan said, feeling ashamed of his reluctance. Jay had never been anything less than appropriate with him, so he took the blanket and followed the Mandalorian.

Obi-Wan peeled off his out layers of clothing and got in under the covers next to Jay, close but not touching. He knew it was probably just because of the stress of the last few days, but he had to admit it felt rather nice. It took less time than he was expecting to fall asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The sunlight filtering through the half-covered window slowly brought Obi-Wan back to consciousness and for a moment the only thing he was aware of was the warmth on his face. A very brief moment because it quickly became impossible to ignore the arms tightly wrapped around his chest.

It had been a shock the first time he shared a bed with Jay, the night of their arrival at the farm, because he’d woken up in a near panic to find his back against the Mandalorian’s chest and an arm casually slung over his shoulder. He’d got over it quickly and, in the two and a half weeks since then, they still hadn’t done much more than sleep in the same bed together fully clothed, even after setting up the homestead’s slightly larger bed. He had to admit there was something comforting about waking up in someone’s arm, though they were busy enough that he rarely had more than a couple moments at a time to experience it while awake. Even the times he’d woken to _something_ pressing against his lower back hadn’t been anything more than awkward. It was simply a matter of biology, he’d reminded himself.

He tried his best to carefully escape the arms holding him without disturbing the sleeping man but to no avail. “Jay,” he finally said. “I have to get up. I have work today.” The only response was muffled and unintelligible. With a sigh, he squirmed himself free of the arms holding him, but by the time he returned from the refresher, Jay was sitting upright on the edge of the bed. Scowling.

In the days immediately following their marriage he would have been concerned by that expression, but by this point, he knew exactly what it meant in this moment. A few seconds later, Jay confirmed it. “I thought you had today off.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan conceded, “but last night they asked if I could come in and I agreed. You were asleep when I got home, so I couldn’t tell you.”

“You worked a double shift yesterday,” Jay said, following him into the main room. Part of the long, narrow space had been turned into a temporary kitchen, as the roof of the actual kitchen had caved in ling before and they’d boarded it off for the time being. Fixing it would be a big project that would take funds they didn't have.“I thought you wanted to work on the garden today.”

“I did, but I thought earning money was more important.” Obi-Wan felt thoroughly confused by Jay’s displeasure. From the very beginning, the man had been clear about the precariousness of their situation and the fact that Obi-Wan would be expected to pull his own weight. Now, after the unfortunate incidents and his embarrassing mistakes that had preceded their arrival to the Mandalore system, he was finally doing just that. Shouldn’t the bounty hunter be happy? Yet he seemed increasingly annoyed. Obi-Wan didn’t miss that fact, though Jay was clearly trying to be subtle about it most of the time. “I checked the account. We could use the credits.”

Jay sat at the makeshift table made of cargo crates and watched as Obi-Wan made caf. “We have more than enough for now.”

“Maybe, but only if your jobs continue to go smoothly. What if something goes wrong on one of them? Or the ship breaks down again?” Obi-Wan asked as he sat two mugs down on the table.

Jay frowned, but he didn’t answer, instead sipping at his caf. It hit Obi-Wan that maybe his husband was feeling guilty about the entire situation they were in and it was just coming across as irritation. That was something Obi-Wan understand and it was true that the man had otherwise been patient and kind to him. After Obi-Wan had cared for him in the wake of his breakdown caused by seeing the damage done to his family home, Jay had begun acting much more familiar with him. It had started small. A hand on the younger man’s shoulder as he cooked or worked on repairs. Gripping his forearm before departing on a hunt. It had progressed to cuddling before going to sleep and though it had yet to have gotten further than that, Obi-Wan felt himself wishing it would.

“I understand,” Jay said finally, startling Obi-Wan out of his thoughts. “I’d appreciate it if next time you at least comm me and let if know if you’re offered an extra shift, though.”

That seemed reasonable enough. “Okay, I will.”

“Good. I’ll see what I can make for breakfast.”

Obi-Wan hid a smile as he watched Jay make a face at their current selection of field rations. They’d used up the last of their fresh food the day before and he didn’t think they could justify another trip to the local market so soon when it wasn’t strictly necessary.

They ate in companiable silence and then Obi-Wan went to take a quick sonic shower and get dressed. As he walked outside, he saw Jay busy fixing the busted door of an outbuilding. The Mandalorian paused his work just long enough to nod and wave to him. He waved back. Their life together certainly wasn’t what he’d imagined his marriage or partnership would be like, but it could be a lot worse.

Though he left with plenty of time to spare, Obi-Wan barely into the cantina before his shift was supposed to start. The speeder bike, that they’d found in a shed and done their best to repair, had stalled about halfway there and it had taken him some time to get it up and running again.

Nali, his manager and the Togruta he’d met when he and Jay had eaten there on their first day on world, looked relieved to see him walk through the door, though the place was empty except for a couple customers. “There you are. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“It was just the bike acting up again. Nothing to worry about.” He quickly removed his jacket and joined her behind the counter.

“I thought maybe your _riduur_ was refusing to let you come,” she said with a glare apparently directed at an invisible Jay.

Obi-Wan glanced off to the side. This was beginning to be a reoccurring argument between the two of them. “He wouldn’t do that,” he said. “He might not have been the happiest about me taking an extra shift, but he got over it.” He pointedly did not mention the promise he’d made in turn. There was still a lot he didn’t quite understand about Mandalorian culture, so couldn’t quite pin down what was bothering Nali so much she felt she had to bring it up every time they worked together.

“All right, Ben. If you’re sure.”

He nodded. “I’m sure. Don’t worry.” He was still getting used to the name he’d given when he returned to the place and asked if they were hiring. Jay had repeatedly reassured him that a cantina on the outskirts of the city was hardly the sort of establishment likely to be frequented by children of the Mand’alor or anyone who ran in those circles, but he came with the idea of a pseudonym and his suggestion of ‘Ben’ had been better than anything Obi-Wan could think up. “So, what needs to be done first?”

It was an afternoon in the middle of the week, but the entertainment district in the centre of Keldabe was already bustling. Jango looked up at the flashing holosigns of the bar that Silas had messaged him the location of and rolled his eyes. Of course this was the kind of place he would choose. Once inside, an employee directed him to a private room in the back.

“Glad you could make it, _vod_ ,” the other Mandalorian said as he walked through the door. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that armour, though.”

“You won’t have to. It’s temporary.” He took his helmet off and looked warily at his old friend. The last thing he wanted to deal with in that moment was Silas in a mood.

His friend snorted. “It’s already been longer than you said. _Netra gal_?” As he spoke the question, he nodded toward a bucket filled with ice and bottles of Mandalorian black ale next to a small bowl of nuts.

Jango grabbed one before sitting down. “Your favourite brand, I see.”

“Yes, and I deserve it. Are you aware that your _buir_ is taking your prolonged absence out on me?"

He wasn't, but it didn't exactly come as a shock. He'd been ignoring messages and comms from Jaster for weeks. “Oh yeah, what’s he doing?”

Silas gave him a dark look. “Today he made me look up some obscure legal precedent from a millennium ago and then when I reported back, he just said, ‘As I thought.’”

“That does sound like him.”

“It’s not funny! I’m putting up with that _osik_ on a daily basis while you’re on an extended honeymoon.”

“Hardly. There’s been a decent amound of physical labour to be done just to get the farm in a semi-liveable condition and we’re mostly living on rations. It’s worse than back in the day with the Haat’ade.”

Silas grimaced. “Good point. Not sure I’m ready to go back to that. By the way, you never told me what you thought of my handiwork.”

“You spelled _‘aruetiise’_ wrong,” he said and then dodged a nutshell Silas threw at him.

“Hey! It’s harder than you’d think to write in paint like that. But did it have the effect you wanted?”

Jango nodded, remembering Obi-Wan’s surprisingly caring reaction to ‘Jay’s’ apparent distress at the vandalised buildings. “It worked, but maybe a little too well.”

“Was does that mean?”

Silas listened while Jango went into detail about the last couple of weeks and then looked at his friend thoughtfully. “Do you think maybe you pegged the kid wrong then?”

“I’m not sure what to think. We both saw his reaction first-hand when we came with the marriage offer. He refused to even negotiate.”

“It could’ve just been fear like I’ve been saying all along. Stewjon might not be in the Core, but they’re allied with the Republic so who knows what kind of nonsense they’ve been fed about us.”

Jango leaned back in his chair. “It’s not just that. He’s mentioned several times that he played an active role in the latter part of Melida/Daan’s civil war and I believe it. He’s got the scars to prove it and it sounds like he was there for several years at a minimum.”

“That doesn’t make sense. I know the planet is a protectorate of Stewjon’s, but your new _riduur_ is Stewjoni, isn’t he? Not Melida or Daan.”

“He is. That’s what I don’t understand, but he seems to be reluctant to elaborate.”

Silas stood up just enough to grab another beer. “Let me guess, you’re going to ask me to investigate.”

“I’ll make it an order if that’s what you'd prefer,” he countered, but he knew that Silas, his oldest friend still living, would recognise his teasing tone.

“You got it. Any idea where I should begin? I’d better as efficient as possible so not to attract the Mand’alor’s attention. Or I'll be under fire from you both."

Jango thought for a moment. “I suppose you should start with his background in general. Any family connections between the two planets. That sort of thing.”

“Understood. I’ll report back in four days or earlier if I find something.”

“Thank you, Silas.”

“Now, what do you say you put on that helmet again and we go join a game of sabacc? You’re not expected back for some time, are you?”

“No, and he’s at work anyway.”

Silas looked askance at him. “Work?”

“Yeah, at a cantina not far from the house.”

“So what does that mean? He’s serving drinks and food, that sort of thing?”

“That’s right,” Jango confirmed as he replaced his helmet on his head.

The other man shook his head. “If only they knew.”

“You want to go play cards or what?”

Silas grinned at him as he grabbed his own helmet off the table and tucked it under one arm. “You’re just cranky because you won’t be able to drink out there.”

“Shut up or I’ll leave you here with the bill,” Jango said, but he was already following Silas out the door.

All the lights were out when Jango got back to the farm in the early hours of the morning despite the fact that he’d told Obi-Wan to keep at least one on when he was there alone at night, but a quick glance at the rudimentary security system he’d installed told him everything was still secure.

He crept quietly through the house, pausing in the main room to remove his armour as quickly as he could manage before walking into the bedroom and climbing onto the bed.

“Jay?” Obi-Wan’s voice sounded half asleep and Jango cursed himself silently. He hadn’t been to wake him up.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

“…bounty?” The first part of what the young man had been trying to say was impossible to understand.

“The job went fine. Don’t worry, you can sleep.”

There was no other response, but as Jango got under the covers, he felt an arm wrap around his back and pull him class. He was starting to wonder if Silas was right and he’d overreacted. He felt a twinge of guilt at the prospect, but it would still be the best possible outcome. Maybe things really would be that simple and he’d only need to explain himself and apologise as best he could before he returned home and settled back into his life with a more than suitable spouse. He closed his eyes. Regardless, it was something to be dealt with after he got some rest.


	5. Chapter 5

Jango’s comm started beeping just as he got out of the shower and he was surprised to see the incoming frequency belonged to Silas, not Jaster or someone else in the government wanting to know why he was continuing to skip out on all meetings they’d been messaging him about. While his friend had told him that he’d make contact earlier if he found out anything of worth, Jango hadn’t actually expected that. It had barely been two day since their meetup and though he could trust Silas to be careful and thorough, the man was hardly a professional researcher. So, it was a certain amount of wariness that he glanced at the still sleeping form of Obi-Wan and grabbed his commlink on the way to the courtyard.

“What is it?” He asked once he decided he was far enough away from the bedroom. Obi-Wan had worked a closing shift and though he wasn’t scheduled to work this day, Jango intended to let him sleep as much as he could. For a stretch of time, there was no answer. “Silas? Is the connection bad?”

“Alor… no, I can hear you just fine.”

Jango frowned. The use of the title in that tone of voice was never a good sign. “You found something.” He didn’t bother making it sound like a question.

“Yes. Rather, uh, a lot actually.”

“All right, tell me.”

There was another pause. “I can’t. Not like this, I mean. We need to meet again.”

“What? No, I don’t want to go into Keldabe. Just tell me whatever it is.”

Silas made a frustrated sound on the end of the call. “Do you trust me, Jango?”

“What kind of question is that? You know I do.”

“Then believe me when I say you’ll want to hear this in person.”

Jango found he couldn’t argue with that, as much as he wanted to. “Fine, but I won’t be staying long.”

“Understood. The same place as before?”

“Fine, I’ll be there in an hour.” After ending the call, he tried his best to shake the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. Silas wasn’t one to exaggerate, but how bad could it really be? He made his way back into the bedroom, no longer bothering to be quiet and by the time he got close to the bed, Obi-Wan had rolled over and was blinking his eyes at him.

“Jay? What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. I just have to go into the city to meet someone.”

“Potential client?”

“Something like that.”

Obi-Wan nodded but Jango didn’t miss that his eyes were beginning to close again. “Good luck.”

Jango reached down and ran his fingers through the other’s tousled hair. “Get some rest, _cyare_. I’ll make you something to eat when I get back.”

There was only a mumble in response, so he dressed quickly and put on his armour, realising for the first time that he’d begun to get used to Obi-Wan’s help with it, something that tended to happen now whenever the younger man was around and awake. He allowed himself a last fond look toward the bedroom before heading on his way.

When he got to the bar, he found it mostly deserted, which was hardly surprising given the time of day. The one staff member inside barely glanced at him before motion toward the room where he’d met with Silas before, but this time when he was greeted there was no playfulness in the other Mandalorian’s body language.

“Here,” Silas said as handed him a small glass as soon as his helmet was removed.

He couldn’t help raising an eyebrow. “ _Tihaar_ , really? It’s not even midday.”

“Just drink it.”

When Jango had finished downing the liquor, he gave his friend an expectant look. “Well?”

“For starters, I was able to confirm that he is who is says he is and the information we already had on his late parents and other relatives is apparently all correct.”

Jango, who had never doubted any of that, tapped on the table impatiently. “Stop stalling.”

“The thing is, he wasn’t raised on Stewjon.”

“On Melida/Daan then?”

Silas poured himself a shot and shook his head. “By all accounts, he arrived there at age thirteen or abouts and stayed there fulltime for at least two years, through the end of their war. No, it seems he was sent to Coruscant as a toddler.”

Jango frowned. That made no sense. Sending a child to live with relatives in the Core was something people who were impoverished or in otherwise desperate situations might do, but Obi-Wan’s family was nobility from a stable planet. He couldn’t think of a way that would make sense. Until it hit him. “No.”

“ _Vod_ , I dug as far as I could. I’m sure. The Jedi Temple archives can’t be easily accessed, of course, but Bandomeer is another story. That’s the headquarters of AgriCorps.”

The name of the world was familiar, of course, and the organisation was famous throughout the galaxy. Jango had even heard that it was one of the branches of the Order that accepted younglings who for some reason were not chosen to continue with the Jetiise. “You found Obi-Wan in their records?” It was easier, he found, to focus on the details of what Silas was saying rather than the implications he was in no way ready to face.

“Better than that. I commed and asked. It didn’t much prompting for them to tell me that he was there briefly before something changed and he went off again with a Jedi Master. They wouldn’t go into details, but it was enough. From there, it was easy enough to find record of some kind of Jetii presence on Melida/Daan around the time Kenobi would’ve arrived there. He must not have ever left.”

Jango felt a strange icy feeling in his veins and, simultaneously, that the walls of the small room were closing in on him. He struggled to control his breathing. “You don’t think he’s still… one of them?” He finally managed.

Silas laughed, though it was humourless. “That would be one hell of a convoluted long game, don’t you think? Even if it that were the case, surely they wouldn’t have been stupid enough to have used his real identity. Though I’m not saying we shouldn’t investigate more if you wish, Alor.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Jango said, realising that he had no choice but to admit the logic of Silas’ words. “But I haven’t seen him use any Jetii magic,” he mused before a thought came to him. “Fierfek, except that card game.”

Silas wore a grim expression. Clearly he’d already come to that conclusion. “You were convinced he’d cheated. It seems you were right.”

Jango barely heard him, however. He pressed his eyes closed for a long moment as he tried his best to battle the feelings of fury and terror that were at war inside him.

“Stop,” Silas said suddenly, the word cutting through Jango’s thoughts. “Don’t think like that.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” He realised as he spoke that it came out as a snarl, though the other Mandalorian seemed unfazed as he reached across the table and gripped Jango’s forearm.

“I do, though. You know I do, _vod_.”

Jango let out an uneven breath. “Myles would want me to do something.” Suddenly that was all he could see. The way he’d collapsed to the ground, holding tightly to the gravely wounded man. Watching the life seeping out of his pale-yellow eyes. “He would want—”

“You can’t speculate on that,” Silas said, somehow remaining calm. “You know better.” _Of course he’s calm. He’d at least had time to prepare for this_ , Jango couldn’t help the bitter thought before reminding himself that from the beginning and up to the very moment, Silas had been nothing but loyal. He also wasn’t wrong.

He leaned back and pulled his arm out of the other’s grip. “You’re right,” he admitted.

Silas still looked concerned. “Are you okay?” He waited for Jango’s nod of confirmation before continuing. “I feel like we should handle things as quickly as possible. You can divorce him immediately and send him back to Stewjon. There’s no reason he won’t go.”

Jango reached for the bottle of _tihaar_ , not bothering with pouring it into the glass. Silas was good and loyal, but he also wasn’t seeing things clearly. That was okay. This was Jango’s responsibility. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jetii or no, was Jango’s _riduur_. He sat down the bottle and activated his commlink. He already had an idea of what to do.

Obi-Wan hummed to himself as he approached the cantina. He hadn’t bothered with the speeder bike, instead making sure he left with enough time to walk. He had already made up his mind to ask Jay if they could swing for spare parts next week. The piece of junk couldn’t be trusted in its current condition.

It had been three oddly quiet days since the bounty hunter had gone into the city promising to come back in time for breakfast, but then didn’t come back at all. He had messaged, though, filling Obi-Wan in on the fact he’d taken a job that would last a few days at least. It had been a little surprising that he hadn’t commed, but Obi-Wan found he couldn’t be too upset about it. After all, the man had probably been pressed for time.

Obi-Wan had made good use of the time by working on the house and garden as best he could and picking up extra shifts at work and then he woken up that morning to another brief message from his husband stating that he’d be home sometime that day. It was strange he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel relieved and even something like happy. He’d become used to living with the Mandalorian, it seemed.

He was still absorbed in his thoughts as he walked the cantina door, that it at first didn’t register to him as odd that Nali was sitting alone at a table instead of busily getting ready to open.

“Ben,” she said, her voice sounding odd. “Sit down.”

He obeyed, suddenly worried. Nali felt distinctly upset in the Force, though she at least looked physically fine. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone broke in early this morning.”

“What? Are you okay?”

She looked down. “I’m fine. It was after I left. The others too.”

Obi-Wan breathed out in relief. “Good.”

“But they took all the money in the safe.”

“And they got away?”

She finally met eyes again. “Yes, but that’s not the only problem. Ben, whoever took the money used your security code.”

Obi-Wan froze. That couldn’t be possible. He’d never been anything but careful with his access codes for work. He was sure of it. “Nali, I swear it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Ben!” The forcefulness of the Togruta’s voice cut him off abruptly. “I know you didn’t. Of course I know that.”

He felt relieved and a little confused. “But then—”

“It’s the owners.”

Of course. The cantina was owned by a wealthy couple from Sundari who had formerly aligned with the now defunct New Mandalorians and who he’d never met. “I understand. If you need me to turn myself over to the authorities, I’ll cooperate,” he managed, trying not to think about how Jay would take the news.

“No, you don't need to do that. I was able to convince them to accept your resignation and your last salary as compensation.”

He felt numb, but he forced himself to nod. Even though he knew he was innocent, he had to admit that was more than fair. “Thank you, Nali. You didn’t have to do that.”

She looked at him sadly. “I did, though. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself otherwise.”

Obi-Wan stood up. He needed to get home as soon as he could. “Thanks again.”

“Ben, wait.”

“What?”

She grimaced. “If you have any idea who could have done this, we can go report it together. No matter who it is.” She slightly emphasised the word ‘who,’ Obi-Wan noticed. “I’ll make sure you’re safe from him. I promise.”

It took most of Obi-Wan’s strength not to lash out at that. She misjudged the situation and had all along, but she meant well. “It was my carelessness at fault, nothing else.”

“Understood,” she said, though she hardly sounded convinced _. “Ret'urcye mhi.”_

“ _Ret'urcye mhi.”_ The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

Obi-Wan was far from surprised to see Jay’s ship when he got close to the farm. At that point, he would have been more shocked to have something go right. He steeled himself for the conversation that would follow. “Jay?” He called out, as he entered.

“Obi-Wan? You’re back early,” a familiar voice answered. “I’m in the kitchen.”

Sure enough, Jay stood in the kitchen part of the main room, holding a bag. “I was going to hide this and make it a surprise, but I suppose I should just give it to you now.”

“What is it?” Obi-Wan asked, his curiosity momentarily overriding his distress.

Jay smiled and pulled out a small wooden box and showed it to Obi-Wan before putting it on a shelf. It was tea and he immediately recognised the label. It was _expensive_ tea and a brand he’d last had on Stewjon. He felt something tighten in his chest. “That’s, uh, thank you. Does this mean your job went well?”

The Mandalorian looked sheepish. “Ah, no. I’m afraid someone beat me to the target in the end. But I managed to get some supply shopping in, so it wasn’t a total waste.”

Supplies, Obi-Wan thought in horror, that they certainly couldn’t afford. All because of him. For the first time in years, he couldn’t manage to stop the tears threatening to escape his eyes. Nor he could he stop himself from falling to his knees.

“Obi-Wan!” Strong arms grabbed him and pulled him upwards. “What’s wrong? Cyare, you can tell me.” There was a genuine note of panic in the man’s voice, but Obi-Wan couldn’t do much besides sob into Jay’s shoulder, not caring that the durasteel pauldron was cold against his cheek. “It’s okay, I’m talking you to bed. All right?”

It was far from all right, but Obi-Wan let him do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vod- sibling  
> alor- leader  
> ret'urcye mhi- goodbye lit. "maybe we'll meet again"  
> cyare- beloved


	6. Chapter 6

Jango woke up to the feeling of someone nuzzling their head against his chest but didn’t immediately open his eyes, instead choosing to bask in the rare tenderness of the moment and when he did, all he saw was a head of coppery hair. He groggily tried to recall who he’d taken to bed and just when he’d decided to give up and simply continue to enjoy the warmth and closeness of his lover, the truth of the situation hit him full force. It wasn’t some alcohol-fuelled liaison snuggled close to him, nor a fellow Haat’ade commando seeking stress relief. It was Obi-Wan, the man he’d married. _The lying, traitorous Jetii he’d married,_ the still furious part of his brain reminded him. He’d opened his eyes, however, and pulled away slightly and it was hard to feel only hate when staring down at the beautiful serene face.

He hadn’t said much the night before, but he’d helped Obi-Wan undress down to his underclothes and then let him curl up into a ball next to the Mandalorian and cry himself to sleep. It had taken Jango much longer before he was able to close his eyes without seeing people he loved bleeding out on battlefields and he was awoken several times through the night by vivid nightmares, but at no point did he feel the need to move away from Obi-Wan, as strange as that was.

Though he didn’t intend to, he drifted back to sleep.

Obi-Wan found it difficult not to smile at the way the Mandalorian looked, fast asleep with the morning light casting shadows on his face. He somehow seemed much younger and completely at peace. It was impossible to forget his husband’s culture and profession and it was never far from Obi-Wan’s mind that had a few things gone differently in his life, he may have found himself facing the man with an ignited lightsabre. Yet he’d never so much as shouted at Obi-Wan for his continuous series of failures.

He resisted the urge to touch the sleeping man. “Jay? You don’t have to get up, but I made caf and breakfast.”

Golden brown eyes flew open and then blinked slowly. “Myles? Where are we?”

“No, it’s me. Obi-Wan.”

Jay groaned and pushed himself up. “Ah. Good morning.”

“Um, I want to apologise for the way I was last night. It was, uh, childish. Thank you for taking care of me,” he managed, knowing he must be blushing bright red. He didn’t miss that something dark flashed on Jay’s face as he spoke, but he couldn’t be surprised. If anything, it was odd that he wasn’t showing more anger at Obi-Wan’s carelessness and the predicament it put them in, but the bounty hunter just shook his head.

“You said something about caf?”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Jay focused most of his attention on whatever he was reading on his datapad, until he finally glanced up and caught the younger man’s attention with a meaningful look. Obi-Wan managed not to visibly flinch, bracing himself for a difficult conversation about their current situation.

“Those scars on your back and chest,” Jay began, catching him off. That was certainly not what he’d been expecting, but it was a preferable line of discussion, so he wasn’t going to complain. It was true that the night before had been the most naked his husband had ever seen him.

“Blaster bolts, mostly. Though the shrapnel on my shoulder is from a small explosion.” While he spoke, Jay looked at him with an unreadable expression that should have made him more uncomfortable than it did. “I’m sure I mentioned that I was on Melida/Daan for the end of the civil war and its aftermath,” he added.

“You did,” Jay acknowledged with a tilt of his head, “but you have to admit it’s a strange position for a high-ranking member of Stewjoni society to find themself in.” The Mandalorian raised an eyebrow but didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “That war ended, what? Six years ago? You must have been pretty young.”

“I was thirteen when I first got there.” Obi-Wan felt unmoored. Jay had never pressed him about his past before and had always seemed to accept Obi-Wan’s vague explanations at face value and now he wasn’t sure how much he should say, but he knew he had no desire to lie to his husband. The man had been nothing but accommodating to him despite the endless problems they’d had. “The thing is, there’s a bit more to it.”

“Obi-Wan, wait. You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready.”

Obi-Wan looked up, surprised. “You’re sure?”

Jay nodded and poured them both more caf. “We need to talk about our next steps anyway. I don’t think we can afford the fuel I’d need to take bounty jobs off world.”

There it was. Obi-Wan forced himself to make eye contact. “I was thinking about that. I know you said you would stick to the contract, but I want to offer to release you from it.”

There was a long silence until Jay finally spoke. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ll keep the money from the dowry, of course.” Not that there was any of it left. “But you’d be released from the marriage and we’d… part ways.” Obi-Wan of course wouldn’t be able to go far at first, but he could surely find some work somewhere. Maybe he could ask Nali. She’d once promised to help him a job in one of the other cities. He didn’t think he had it in him to beg Stewjon for more help when he was surely seen as an embarrassment by the government now and as for Nield, he hadn’t answered even one of Obi-Wan’s comms since he’d left. Despite all that, it should still feel like the best option. After all, it would mean he was free of a marriage he’d intended to enter into, but for some reason he couldn’t fully comprehend, he only felt sad at the idea.

“That’s not going to happen.”

Obi-Wan startled, surprised at the forcefulness of Jay’s tone. “Why? I thought divorcing was as easy as getting married in Mandalorian society.”

“It is. That doesn’t mean I’m willing to dissolve a marriage because of _hardship_. That’s more than dishonourable. We’ll get through this together.”

Of course. Jay was a traditionalist and though Obi-Wan was still figuring out just what that meant in Mandalorian culture, he knew that the man’s convictions didn’t have anything to do with him. Yet he couldn’t help but feel warmth in the pit of his stomach at the words. “If you’re certain.”

“I am.”

Somehow, that simple reassurance made it all seem more manageable. “You said you wanted to talk about what we should do next?”

“Like I said, taking bounties is a risk when we’re low on funds. I think it would make more sense if I found a security job in the city. It would mean less pay but more stability.”

Obi-Wan could see the benefits to that. “And I’ll try to find something close enough so I can walk.” It wouldn’t be easy because there wasn’t a lot in the area, but he’d have to find something.

“Actually, I had an idea about that too.” Jay reached for his datapad. “Look at this,” he said, as he brought up a page that Obi-Wan quickly realised was a list of job openings.

“Jay, I can’t work at the palace!”

The Mandalorian laughed. “It’s not a palace, at least not like the one in Sundari. It’s just the government buildings and residences. Look, I know for a fact that they pay well, and you could catch a ride in with me every day.”

That certainly would make things easier, but it was ignoring the bantha in the room. “You know why it’s a bad idea. You know if he— that I can’t—”

Jay leaned forward and let one his hands rest on Obi-Wan’s wrist. It was rare for the man to be without his gloves except at night and he couldn’t help but relax at the feeling of the man’s skin on his. “ _Udesii_. From what I’ve heard, Fett hasn’t been around much lately. It’s not surprising, he probably has campaigns to lead. Besides, it’s a huge complex and you don't have to use your real name if you’d prefer.”

Obi-Wan thought it over for a moment. It was starting to seem like the only reasonable option. “I suppose I could cut my hair,” he said, and then had to stop himself from laughing at Jay’s glower. Maybe his husband wasn’t tolerating him purely out of honour.

Jay had been right about how easy it would be to find a job in the palace in Keldabe. It had barely taken any time at all for Obi-Wan to snatched up by a small repair workshop attached to the largest kitchen despite immediately admitting he was a novice at that kind of work at best.

Obi-Wan looked up from the droid part he’d been working on and rolled his eyes at the most recent question directed his way. “I already explained all this, Naren,” he said with a sigh, though he smiled when the Nautolan in question handed him a mug of _shig_.

“Yeah, leave Ben alone,” the human at the workstation opposite them chided, though his eyes were full of humour and he winked at Obi-Wan. It hadn’t taken long for him to pick up on the fact that Naren and Zel were siblings, even before they’d stated it explicitly. Their easy banter and clear closeness in the Force had reminded him of those long-ago days in the Temple as well as the relationships between the Young, those that had survived, anyway. He was no mechanic and he was struggling to keep up with the work, but in the short time he’d been there so far, he’d found the atmosphere in the workshop comfortable and he knew he could adjust.

“No, I get that you need the money, but you got a job here, right? I’m just curious why your _riduur_ didn’t as well, if he’s as good a fighter as you say. Our cousin’s a guard and she’s always saying they need people.”

It was a good question and one that had been bothering Obi-Wan as well. “I don’t know exactly,” he admitted. He had brought it up, but Jay had brushed aside the suggestion and had quickly changed the subject.

That had even Zel raising an eyebrow at him. “And you said he doesn’t use his clan name?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I don’t even know what it is.”

“What?” Naren sounded shocked.

“I told you, it was a contract marriage and to honest, we’ve had a bit of a rocky start due to, uh, circumstances. I didn’t want to press him about a sensitive topic.” The story of their relationship he’d told them earlier hadn’t been the whole truth, of course, but he’d kept the main points. “I figure he’ll tell me eventually.”

The two Mandalorians exchanged a meaningful look as Obi-Wan tried to focus on the part he was attempting to repair.

“Ask him if it’s Vizsla,” Naren said.

“ _Don’t_ ask him that!” Zel countered.

Obi-Wan laughed. His education hadn’t been that faulty, and he’d considered something similar, but no. Jay clearly had his own secrets, but one thing Obi-Wan was certain of was that the bounty hunter’s working-class background was genuine. “I’m sure he has his reasons. That’s good enough for me.”

“You’re right,” Zel said, shooting a glare at his sibling when the other opened their mouth. “It’s just a pity he doesn’t want a job here. He’d for sure make more than he is working security at the port.”

Naren hummed in agreement. “Especially now that the Mand’alor’s _ad_ is back.”

Obi-Wan froze. “What?”

“Oh, I thought you would have heard. Apparently he found someone to marry, which probably explains why he’s been absent the last few months.”

That could be a good thing, Obi-Wan reminded himself. It meant that Fett wasn't spending much time thinking about him, no matter how insulted he'd felt at the time. He'd clearly moved on. Obi-Wan pushed aside the irrational burst of jealousy he felt and tried his best to turn his attention back to his work. So Mereel’s son was back in Keldabe. It just meant he’d have to be careful, that was all. But he must have had a troubled expression on his face, because Naren looked at him with concern.

“Don’t tell me your _riduur_ made an enemy of Jango Fett.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “No,” he began and then stopped. Was he sure? Jay certainly hadn’t ever said anything to that effect, but it would be just their luck. “Or at least I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you two should think about relocating to Sundari or Ronion,” the Nautolan said, giving him a sceptical look. “Or Concordia.”

“Naren!” Zel said, with an exasperated look at Obi-Wan. “I’m so sorry you have to put up with this too.”

“It’s fine,” Obi-Wan said with a grin and for the first time in a while, that felt true.

As soon as work ended, he hurried out of the government district toward the meeting place Jay had chosen and was surprised to find his husband waiting for him near the speeder they’d bought with their combined first salaries. It was as they drove home that realised what he needed to do.

Jango noticed that Obi-Wan was unusually quiet on the way out of the city, enough that he felt compelled to ask him if he was feeling all right once they arrived at the farm.

“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan said as he unloaded the bag of vegetables he’d said were given to him by someone at work. “It’s just, I think I need to tell you something.”

It could be anything, but Jango’s stomach twisted into knots. He somehow just _knew_. “Of course, but let’s wait until we’re inside and get everything put away.”

“Okay.”

They eventually settled on the wooden bench that was still the closest thing they had to a sofa and it didn’t escape Jango’s notice that Obi-Wan fidgeted with the hem of his tunic, a habit that made him seem young. “You know you can talk to me,” he reassured.

Slowly, Obi-Wan met his gaze and nodded.

The story began much as he’d been expecting, with Coruscant and the Jedi Temple, but it soon took a turn that made it unnecessary for him to fake any kind of emotional response like he’d been expecting to. Adults rejecting _ad’ike_? Sending them away from the only home they’d ever known? That was horrific on its own, but to single out Obi-Wan of all people? It was all he could do not to shake in anger.

It only got worse. If he’d known what to expect when Obi-Wan got to the part about Bandomeer, he’d have suggested they start with _tihaar_.

Then the truth about Melida/Daan came out. From what Jango had already learned from Silas, he’d been expecting a disturbing explanation, but given the age Obi-Wan had been at the time, he’d suspected the boy had chosen to run off rather than return to the Core, which would have been bad enough, but… “ _Shabuir_ ,” he gritted out, doing his best to keep the full force of his feelings out of his voice.

“Jay?” Obi-Wan was looking at him, wide-eyed.

Jango shifted his position slightly so they were facing each other as much as possible. “Can you come here?” 

“I am here.” Obi-Wan was looking at him, clearly puzzled.

“Just, closer.”

“Jay, I’m fine. This all happened years ago,” he protested, but after just a beat he leaned forward and allowed himself to be pulled into an embrace.

Jango, well aware that his armour would be decidedly uncomfortable for the younger man leaning against him if he wasn’t careful, was as deliberate and gentle as he could manage and it was well worth it once Obi-Wan’s head was resting on his shoulder.

Clarity, something that had he often felt he was missing in the years since he’d escaped that spice freighter, was suddenly something he had. Obi-Wan Kenobi was his. They were meant to be together. It was something ordained by the _manda_ and it was his duty to make sure they stayed that way. Safe and together.

“It’s all right, _cyare_ , I’ve got you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, Jango's understandable anger at what happened to Obi-Wan in the past _is_ slightly undermined by *checks notes* his own actions.


End file.
